It’s not that I don’t appreciate what Fellini is aiming for here — portrait of the artist as a narcissist with mother issues, one of his abiding themes — it’s just that there’s so much whirl and spectacle that I find it difficult to keep up with why I should care about Marcello Mastroianni’s Guido and his many women (and memories of women, and fantasies of women). I’ve apparently seen this film before but I don’t remember it at all, not that I’m holding up this response as any kind of proof of anything. It’s undoubtedly a well-made film which does all those reflexive filmic things (he plays a film director) that critics love when compiling their all-time lists, and the cinematography by Gianni Di Venanzo is fantastic. I just struggle to find what’s in it that I can connect with. To each their own.
FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Federico Fellini | Writers Federico Fellini, Ennio Flaiano, Tullio Pinelli and Brunello Rondi | Cinematographer Gianni Di Venanzo | Starring Marcello Mastroianni, Anouk Aimée, Sandra Milo | Length 138 minutes || Seen at Rialto, Wellington, Tuesday 31 October 2000 (and most recently on DVD at a friend’s home, London, Sunday 15 January 2017)
There’s something to Anocha Suwichakornpong’s filmmaking, a sort of dreamy, elliptical oddness that has long stretches of quiet watchfulness (long takes with a fairly static camera, though often handheld so a bit shaky)… but then there are these little flares of strangeness (and I still can’t help but thinking about fellow Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul in this regard). This is a story of two men: Ake, from a rich family, who has mobility issues (Phakpoom Surapongsanuruk); and the other, Pun (Arkaney Cherkam), his carer, from somewhat lower down the rungs of society. There’s almost an upstairs-downstairs dynamic (we also see the family’s cook), but that’s not really dwelt upon. What unfolds is largely this slow evolution of feeling between the two, with sort of mystical asides to astronomy and an unexpected scene of childbirth at the end (even the appearance of the opening credits 15 minutes in took me by surprise). I can’t explain what it’s doing, but it’s interesting enough for me to want to watch more by the same filmmaker (her more recent film By the Time It Gets Dark had much the same effect on me).
Director/Writer Anocha Suwichakornpong | Cinematographer Ming-Kai Leung | Starring Arkaney Cherkam, Phakpoom Surapongsanuruk | Length 82 minutes || Seen at home (DVD), London, Wednesday 1 March 2017
A story of three Arab-Israeli women who live together in Tel Aviv, this at its best feels effortless and modern. The linchpin is Leila (Mouna Hawa), a lawyer and party animal who has a blithe abandon to living her life which is delightful to watch. Salma (Sana Jammelieh) is her lesbian housemate, an aspiring DJ who takes work in a bar and hides her sexuality from her traditional (Christian) parents. They take in Nour (Shaden Kanboura) as a houseguest, a cousin’s friend who wears a headscarf and has a more traditional Muslim family. Thus is the set-up for the rest of the film, and it’s a venerable one at that, mined for plenty of films and especially television sitcoms. I really wanted it to be more upbeat, but plenty of stuff happens to the three that’s not exactly cheerful (thanks, traditional religious cultures and the patriarchy), and it moves towards a very much downbeat denouement, as the three regroup — not without hope, but at least a little knocked back. Still, picking up on one of the most commonly cited comparisons (Girls), I’d happily watch an entire TV series about these women because their lives seem set to continue apace.
SPECIAL SCREENING FILM REVIEW: International Women’s Day
Director/Writer Maysaloun Hamoud | Cinematographer Itay Gross | Starring Mouna Hawa, Shaden Kanboura, Sana Jammelieh | Length 96 minutes || Seen at BFI Southbank (NFT1), London, Wednesday 8 March 2017
Sometimes you can look at a film’s write-ups and realise it’s something you’ll love, but at other times a film will just surprise you — and this one for me is very much the latter. I can’t quite put my finger on what I respond to in director Momoko Ando’s style but she definitely has an eye for framing, and for almost deadpan actions — just simple stuff sometimes, like the way her protagonist Haru rolls out of bed in the morning. Of course the acting is key too, and Hikari Matsushima manages to convey Haru’s withdrawn persona really well without making her unlikeable. As the relationship story progresses, it goes in some odd directions, but ultimately this is a quiet, reflective film about quite turbulent emotions.
Director/Writer Momoko Ando (based on the manga by Erika Sakurazawa) | Cinematographer Koichi Ishii | Starring Hikari Mitsushima, Eriko Nakamura | Length 107 minutes || Seen at home (DVD), London, Saturday 18 March 2017
I’ve always loved this film, ever since first watching it, transfixed, on a 16mm print at a film society. It has a transfixing power, specifically in the way the actors interpret their lines, the fugue-like oneiric monotone and constant off-screen gaze of the title character (Nina Pens Rode), moving about her world as if nothing exists — indeed, if she had passed through a wall like a ghost, I’d hardly be surprised. Every element is controlled, not just the acting and movement, but the placement of decor, the use of paintings as counterpoint to the discussion, the ripples on the pond as Gertrud and Erland speak (pathetic fallacy, I suppose, but not even that overdetermined), the lighting, just everything. It’s also uncompromisingly about a woman who rejects the men in her life — not least by barely ever even looking at them — and I don’t blame her.
FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Carl Theodor Dreyer (based on the play by Hjalmar Söderberg) | Cinematographer Henning Bendtsen | Starring Nina Pens Rode, Bendt Rothe, Ebbe Rode, Baard Owe | Length 116 minutes || Seen at National Library, Wellington, Wednesday 23 June 1999 (also the Filmhouse, Edinburgh, Sunday 6 July 2003, and the BFI Southbank, London, Saturday 17 March 2012, as well as on VHS at home, Wellington, January 2001 and most recently on DVD, home, 3 December 2016)
With the director’s second film Moonlight gathering so much critical acclaim, there have been a few screenings (like this one) of his 2008 debut, which never made much of a splash over in the UK aside from a London Film Festival appearance. It’s a relationship drama set in San Francisco between two people. On the one hand, there’s a story of feelings (because “love” is probably too strong a term), as these two are roused the morning after a drunken one-night stand and spend the ensuing day in one another’s company. But it’s also the story, not coincidentally, of two black people. Two black people, to the point, who live in an increasingly white city, a rapidly gentrifying city — a city of coffee shops and kombucha and technology (MySpace — either a dated reference, or a thematically-loaded harbinger), a city of indie pop club nights and museums presenting black historical experiences which, being in a museum environment, have a certain alienated character. There’s a level at which this is like a terrifying sci-fi in which these two people are the last two in a bland expanse of corporatised white space. Or at least that feels like maybe the story Micah (Wyatt Cenac) is trying to tell, whereas Joanne (Tracey Heggins) isn’t exactly having it. In this dialogue on race and the city space, which enters and leaves the film periodically, their relationship pushes and pulls. Likewise, colour bleeds, almost imperceptibly at times, into and out of the image (for much of the time it’s a stark black-and-white). Still, ultimately this is a film about two people spending a day together, and at that it feels unforced and real. It feels a long way from Moonlight, but maybe in being about that contested space between two people, it’s not so far after all.
SPECIAL SCREENING FILM REVIEW
Director/Writer Barry Jenkins | Cinematographer James Laxton | Starring Wyatt Cenac, Tracey Heggins | Length 88 minutes || Seen at Picturehouse Central, London, Monday 13 February 2017
I know there’s a great respect and love for film in Iran, because there are so many Iranian-set films made entirely outside the country by diasporan Iranian actors, writers, directors and producers (this one, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, and Under the Shadow are just three that come to mind from recent years). I’m never sure how accurate these are to the experience of living there, but they generally function as allegories in any case — here we have love between two women trying to blossom under patriarchal surveillance. There’s a hint of Mustang to it (another film about the patriarchal limits of desire made by a largely expatriate crew to its country), but it’s somewhat less successful. The actors handle their material well, and putting attractive young women against saturated colours makes for a good-looking film, but there’s a sense in which it feels unfulfilling (though of course that’s also, I suppose, thematically apropos). Maybe I just wanted a happier ending for the central couple.
Director/Writer Maryam Keshavarz | Cinematographer Brian Rigney Hubbard | Starring Nikohl Boosheri, Sarah Kazemy, Reza Sixo Safai | Length 107 minutes || Seen at home (DVD), London, Tuesday 7 February 2017
I suppose at one level nothing much really happens, nothing overtly melodramatic, but really everything does. There’s an entire relationship in these two hours — between Chris (Lars Eidinger) and Gitti (Birgit Minichmayr), on holiday in Italy — and for a change it’s a fairly believable one. It sort of channels the awkward, uncomfortable feeling you get when you’ve made a couple-y in-joke at an inappropriate moment in mixed company and your spouse glares at you and you shrink inside (well, that’s just Chris’s side). The extent to which you believe these two have a future probably depends on where you are yourself in respect to a relationship, but I’m inclined to the German Weltanschauung. I’m guessing hell is everyone else when you’re together (there’s a particularly dull second holidaying German couple introduced later on), or maybe it’s just these two. It’s a film that’s deeply suggestive (about love, about work, about possible futures) without ever tipping over into judgement.
Director/Writer Maren Ade | Cinematographer Bernhard Keller | Starring Birgit Minichmayr, Lars Eidinger | Length 119 minutes || Seen at home (DVD), London, Monday 16 January 2017
I recognise that perhaps the setup for this film is not the most original, and the characters are fairly dull as characters (they’re mostly variations on entitled middle-class white people), but yet I really enjoyed this relationship dysfunction comedy because it’s funny, and I am a huge fan of the always-underrated Melanie Lynskey, not to mention Alia Shawkat. The former is playing within her comedic element, as Annie, a woman who invites all her closest friends to a retreat at a family home out in the countryside as the pretext for staging an ‘intervention’ for her friend Cobie Smulders’ marriage, which ends up giving Annie a chance to rethink some things for herself. The film’s narrative arc is fairly predictable as are the ways everyone falls out with one another and then comes together again, but this is all about the performances from its ensemble cast, who are uniformly delightful. It also, importantly, doesn’t overstay its welcome.
Director/Writer Clea DuVall | Cinematographer Polly Morgan | Starring Melanie Lynskey, Alia Shawkat, Clea DuVall, Cobie Smulders, Natasha Lyonne | Length 88 minutes || Seen at home (streaming), London, Monday 2 January 2017
The title of this Proust adaptation — centred around Simon (Stanislas Merhar, the Marcel character) and his beloved Ariane (Sylvie Testud, based on Albertine) — suggests it is about the woman. But… who is the real captive here? Well, depending on your temperament, possibly not the audience. I’m being unfair, though: I love Akerman’s films, and this one hinges around male obsession and jealousy. It’s very much about him failing to control, and failing to understand, Ariane — or indeed, women in general… or other people in general maybe. He’s a difficult character to watch, and a real jerk in his quiet, devotional way. Lots of long takes add to the atmosphere nicely, even if I’ll always prefer Akerman’s documentaries over her arthouse genre exercises (as I think of this and Almayer’s Folly, no doubt unfairly).
Director/Writer Chantal Akerman (based on La Prisonnière by Marcel Proust) | Cinematographer Sabine Lancelin | Starring Sylvie Testud, Stanislas Merhar | Length 118 minutes || Seen at home (DVD), London, Friday 6 January 2017